


Born to Look at You

by remember-gadreel (kams_log)



Series: #SundayGadreel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort Reading, Comforting Gadreel, Fluff, Gadreel Contemplates, Insecure Sam, M/M, Theology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/remember-gadreel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the #SundayGadreel Challenge: "I was born to look at you."</p><p>Sam took a breath, then asked carefully, “Do you still believe in God?”</p><p>Gadreel stared at him. Sam stared back.</p><p>So, a difficult question. But he felt the answer was easy. Because only God could have let Gadreel know someone as beautiful as Sam Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born to Look at You

**Author's Note:**

> For the #SundayGadreel challenge! If you would like to learn more about it, find me at fallingforgadreel.tumblr.com
> 
> I'll be happy to answer any questions. Guidelines to join are posted in the notes below.
> 
> Enjoy!

Gadreel had the chance to look at Sam everyday. He was given the chance to see the way Sam’s face squinted in the morning, twisted up in a grimace like he wasn’t quite ready for the day ahead of him. He also had many opportunities to witness the way Sam would hustle about the bedroom, jumping on one leg as he fought to get his pants on while a toothbrush hung from his mouth. All this was usually due to the fact Sam forgot about a hunt they were late for.

But sometimes Gadreel had different perspectives of the man beside him. When they were both crouched down behind bushes, Sam’s body would be still and poised. Not the tenseness of a man waiting for a monster, but the ease of a man who knew his prey and when it was coming. 

Sam’s face was unusually relaxed during most hunts. He didn’t smile, but Gadreel could detect the looseness of his shoulders, the steady rise and fall of his chest. It reminded him of the way Sam would count his breaths in the darkness, right before he drifted into sleep.

But Sam didn’t count his breaths when he hunted. Instead he counted down minutes until Dean made his mark, and then they would trap the monster together. Assuming all went well, of course.

On the way home from hunts was usually more tense. Gadreel sometimes watched the way Sam’s jaw would work with anxiety. Gadreel could feel the man going over everything they’d done, if they’d done it right, and if they had changed something could it have gone better? 

Gadreel would only have to extend his hand, and Sam’s fingers would twine between his, and the lines in his lover’s face finally began to fade. 

Sam hummed often. Especially when he thought he was alone, Sam would browse the stacks of books in the library, glance around, then pull out some old childhood favorite he hadn’t seen since he was in kindergarten, maybe first grade. Gadreel learned this when he stepped into the room to find Sam sprawled out on the couch, legs and limbs everywhere as he hummed some old tune and flipped the pages. Sam had sat him down and read to him, told him about the first time Dean read him the story when he was little and still asking questions about why they moved around so much.

“You didn’t always know your father’s occupation?” Gadreel asked, playing with the laces of Sam’s shoes, which happened to be attached to miles of legs that were currently splayed out on his lap.

Sam shook his head in response. “Didn’t find out till a few years later when I convinced Dean to tell me.”

Gadreel nodded. He felt he understood. 

“What did he used to say? Before the truth?” He asked curiously.

Sam shrugged and turned the page of the book, smiled down at the illustration he found.

“He used to say, ‘we’re like the adventurers in the stories, Sam.’” Sam’s voice turned low, mimicking his brother’s. It sounded nothing like the gravel of Dean’s voice, but 

Gadreel found himself smiling in amusement as Sam continued, “’We’re on a journey till we find what we’re looking for.’”

Sam then stretched and added, “So I asked him what we were looking for.” 

“And he replied?” Gadreel encouraged.

Sam smiled and replied with a laugh, “A pot of gold, usually.” He then turned the book around and showed Gadreel the illustration of the knights arguing with a leprechaun over a large cauldron, spilling over with gold coins. 

Gadreel raised an eyebrow, not at all impressed. But Sam laughed and turned the pages back to himself. 

“Well, that’s what Dean said anyway.” 

Gadreel hummed in acknowledgement and began rubbing at Sam’s ankles. He waited for Sam to continue reading, but when the silence stretched on, he glanced back to see Sam’s face screwed up in thought. 

“What would you say?” Gadreel asked, knowing that look. “What do you feel you were looking for?”

Sam blushed, to Gadreel’s surprise. He set the book down against his chest and looked at Gadreel intently. 

“Um, at the time, I guess I was looking for... God.” 

“Oh?” Gadreel asked. He turned and braced his back against the arm of the couch. He fixed his gaze on Sam’s, silently asking him to continue.

Sam’s face darkened another hue and he rubbed his neck anxiously.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess I was hoping there was somebody upstairs that still cared about what was happening to our family, about what happened to mom. I prayed a lot, you know? Almost every day, just in case. It couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Prayer is a beautiful thing,” Gadreel nodded. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. But it lost it’s appeal when I realized God really wasn’t listening after all. Dean always told me there was no such things as angels, or heaven, or anything good in the upstairs department. But I think he was just afraid there wouldn’t be anything for us, just because of the life we lived.”

Sam looked down at the book. Gadreel looked at Sam.

“To be fair,” Gadreel said after a moment. “No one is deserving of grace. But the point of it, is that everyone can have it. No matter what kind of life they’ve led before.”

Sam huffed and nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” He then looked up curiously, fixed Gadreel with one of his impossible stares. It was a look Gadreel was still learning, still trying to master and understand. 

He watched as Sam sat himself upright, and waited until Sam finally spoke, “Gadreel... I don’t want to offend you with my, uh, messed up beliefs and stuff. I mean, I know you actually saw God, knew him. But do you...” He swallowed hard, and Gadreel realized he was about to ask a difficult question.

Sam took a breath, then asked carefully, “Do you still believe in God?”

Gadreel stared at him. Sam stared back.

So, a difficult question. Gadreel thought it over in his head. In many ways, Sam was right. He had known God, seen the Holy One with his own eyes and worshiped and followed him to the ends of the universe. He was God’s most loyal and trusted, the one God had trusted to guard the garden from Lucifer. 

And he had failed. And not long later, God left them to fend for themselves. 

Did Gadreel still believe in a God who’d left them? 

He took a deep breath and looked at Sam’s piercing, desperate gaze, and reached out a hand, lacing their fingers together until he began to feel Sam’s body relax. 

“Well,” Gadreel replied, finally, “I know that I believed in him, before creation, even after.” He swallowed, continued, “But for the past several centuries, no, I don’t believe I have.” 

Sam nodded, slow, understanding. He started to pull back, but Gadreel’s hand tightened around his. Hazel eyes snapped up to green-blue, and Gadreel finished, “But I think I do again, even now.”

“Really?” Sam sounded surprised. Gadreel supposed he was surprised too. But in a way, it made perfect sense to him.

He smiled, then explained, “Because only God would have allowed my freedom, and only God could have given me happiness again. Only God could have given me you.”

Sam stared at him in shock. Gadreel only smiled and pulled Sam’s hand up to his lips, kissed the knuckles, then looked up into Sam’s watery eyes. 

“I can’t help but feel I was born to look at you,” Gadreel said softly. 

Sam nodded. It was shaky, and still stunned, but Sam smiled slowly and leaned forward. He sealed their lips together. 

Gadreel hummed at the contact, allowed it when Sam brushed his fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. 

When they finally parted, Sam’s cheeks were dusty and pink, and his eyes were brighter than Gadreel had ever seen them. 

“I think I can relate,” Sam said. Then he kissed him again. Gadreel smiled and kissed him back.

**Author's Note:**

> #SundayGadreel Challenge:
> 
> Once a week, every Sunday, there will be a fic (or ficlet) challenge to write a story with Gadreel! Each week the challenge will change.
> 
> It will either be: a sentence challenge, theme challenge, or ship challenge. 
> 
> I will post each week's challenge at: remember-gadreel.tumblr.com
> 
> All you have to do is go to my blog at that address, then search the tag #SundayGadreel to find the latest challenge!
> 
> Feel free to join, but if you post on tumblr, please remember to tag it #SundayGadreel so others can find your story! (Also feel free to mention the challenge on AO3 if you choose to post your ficlet here instead.) Thank you!


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